


Local Cryptids

by havsgast



Series: Whump·Tober [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Coffee Shop Owner Remy, Emile is in Witness Protection, Genderfluid Remy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-08 13:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havsgast/pseuds/havsgast
Summary: A collection of drabbles that fit into my Local Cryptids AU, and that use the WhumpTober prompts.If you haven't heard of the Local Cryptids AU before, these are the important things to know:Logan and Remy are best friends. Logan is trans and gave birth to twin sons Roman and Remus in 1993. Remy had a weekend fling hand them their son Dee one day, also in 1993. Remy is married to and lives with Virgil, but their relationship is a question mark. Logan will start dating the children's' teacher Emile Picani in the early 2000s. Roman and Dee have something going on from age 5 onwards. Dice invites himself into Remy and Virgil's relationship in 2009.You can check the tag on my tumblr or send me an ask if you want to know more!





	1. Shaky Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be added as more chapters are posted. Any warnings will be in the summary for each chapter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in 1991. There is some suicidal ideation.

Two days. Two days of no sleep, two days of energy drinks and black coffee. He can’t remember when his body last got any solids. It’s his own fault, of course, because it’s always his own fault. It’s his own fault that he can’t sleep, his own fault that nightmares and sleep paralysis haunt him, his own fault that he has to push his body to the point of exhaustion just to get some rest.

He’s wandering through the streets on autopilot, not caring that a car could come driving towards him at any moment. It’s what… 1 am? 2 am? It’s late, so he doesn’t expect to be run over by a car. He would probably welcome it, with how his week has been going. Maybe he’ll just wander the streets the whole night, instead of trying to find somewhere to get his caffeine fix. He digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his hoodie as if that will warm them. The night air is cold, and he’s not dressed for it.

If a car doesn’t kill him, maybe pneumonia will. Except he doesn’t actually want to die.

There’s a lit shop that catches his attention. He can just barely make out the sign - _Fluidi-Tea_? They must sell coffee. Hoping that the shop is actually open and the lights weren’t just forgotten, he walks towards it. He can see a rainbow flag through the window, hanging on the wall. He stumbles a bit over his own feet in surprise and then walks faster. A gay-friendly coffee shop? That’s the first good thing to happen to this town.

Virgil pushes the door open. There’s no bell chime, which is just another point in favour of the coffee shop. Assuming the coffee tastes good, this is officially his new favourite place. Especially since it’s open at whatever ungodly hour it is, on a weeknight. He pushes his hood down to appear friendlier and stumble his way to the counter.

“What can I get you, babe?” the barista asks. Virgil takes a moment to take in their appearance.

Sunglasses hide the person’s eyes, but they have shoulder-length mauve hair and skin paler even than his own. They’re wearing a black leather jacket over a neon blue crop top with a geometric pattern, paired with black metallic spandex leggings. In short, they look absolutely gorgeous and his heart skips a beat. It might be because of the amount of caffeine in his bloodstream. His hands are shaking, where they’re hovering awkwardly over the counter. He thinks he might be in love if this is what love feels like.

“Babe?” the barista prompts. Virgil must have been staring. He blinks slowly and swallows.

“Uh… Marry me?” is what comes out of his mouth, and Virgil wants to smack himself, that was so stupid, why is he so stupid-

“Yeah, okay.”

Wait. _What?_

“Are you just humouring me because you think I’m drunk?” Virgil questions because he can’t help himself. This might be a hallucination because it’s too good to be true, and realistically that could happen considering he has been awake for _two days_.

“I mean, I want a ring if we’re doing this, but I’m saying yes.”

“Okay.”

“So, did you want a coffee or? It’s on the house.”

Virgil doesn’t completely know what’s going on, but he accepts the free black coffee. He doesn’t get the barista’s name, and he doesn’t give his own. When he gets home later, he crashes on his sofa for fifteen hours. But the next day, he will come back with a ring, and the barista will still want to marry him.


	2. Delirium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before June, in 2008. Vague descriptions of injury.

His skin is coloured by bruises more often than not, be it from accidentally walking into door frames and corners, or from doing something stupid that results in injury. Like the time that he managed to climb up on the roof over their veranda and decided that the best way to get down was to backflip off it. His dad is most of his common sense, and the rest is his best friend Dee. His twin brother is more likely to egg him on, and Toby does about as much stupid shit as Remus himself does.

That’s why he doesn’t think much about the fact that his right elbow has been swollen for a few days, even if his arm sometimes feels numb and weaker than before the injury. It’s just another addition to his ever-growing list of injuries. He still thinks it gives him a right to explain, especially right now, when his head is resting on Toby’s lap. They had meant to do homework, but Remus hadn’t been able to concentrate on the numbers. It wasn’t even math, which was hell considering his dyscalculia, but history. Too many dates and years to memorise until it felt like the numbers were just floating in front of him.

It was Toby that had suggested that they take a pause, but that was… fifteen? twenty? minutes ago, and Remus didn’t feel much better. He kept jumping between topics more than usual, blurting out thoughts that he would usually write down instead. Instead of the restless energy that usually thrums through his veins, he thinks a nap would be nice. Toby’s hands playing with his hair didn’t help.

“I think I love you,” Remus sighs. It’s the first clear thought that he has had in a while.

“I think you’re delirious,” Toby answers.

They’re 14 years old and have been friends since they were eight. For all that Dee is his best friend, Remus thinks he likes Toby more. It’s different though. He feels like his heart is a melted puddle in his chest whenever Toby touches him, and he never wants moments like this one to end. Even if he’s delirious, it has nothing to do with his feelings for his friend.

He blinks. Toby has been snapping his fingers in front of Remus’ face, and he has no idea for how long.

“Rem, I really think you might be delirious. Have you showed your dad your elbow yet?”

Oh. Oh!

“Well fuck,” Remus answers eloquently. Dad might just scold him, but pa will definitely freak out. At least he might still have a chance with Toby?

“Wanna kiss it better?” he asks, giving Toby a toothy grin.

Toby rolls his eyes.  
“In your dreams. Now get off, or I’ll scream and Mr Picani will come rushing in here.”

“You know you can call him Emile, right? He’s not our teacher any longer.”

“REMUS IS DELIRIOUS! HIS ELBOW IS HURT!” Toby screams. They hear something drop from another part of the house and then there are footsteps rushing towards Remus’ room.

“You’re dead to me, October.”

“Nah, you already said that you love me.”

The pain he feels as he laughs it off hurts more than his possibly fractured elbow. If Toby only knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They start dating sometime after the twins' birthday (June 11).


	3. Gunpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in 1994.

After a long line of wrong choices, he should have expected this moment to come, yet he feels extremely unprepared for it now that it’s here. He feels awfully out of his depth, his back pressed up against a crumbling brick wall in an alley, and a man he wished he didn’t recognise pointing the barrel of a gun at his face.

“Doctor Cioran, we meet again,” the man greets him, his tone all for polite for the circumstances.

He bites back a tight smile.  
“It seems so. I guess you’re not willing to let me go?”

“Now, why would I do that?” The man smiles, and the amount of teeth makes him uncomfortable. “You know an awful lot about me and my men… and I can’t trust you to not go running your pretty little mouth.”

As he takes a half-step back, pressing his wall more firmly against the wall, he sneaks his hand into his coat pocket. It doesn’t take long for him to find his phone and dial the emergency number. He hopes that someone will pick up before the man notices the dialling tone. For now, he can only continue talking. There’s no guarantee that his call will lead to any assistance, but at least he feels as if he’s doing something.

“I’m just a psychologist, what danger could I possibly pose?” he asks, although he knows the answer. Patient confidentiality only covers so much, and he’ll be seen as an accessory if someone else takes their crimes to court. It would be much better for him if he were to report him, and the man knows that he knows that.

“You didn’t get this far by playing dumb, doctor.”

No, he didn’t, but he has not only his own life to think of. They’ve already targeted his sister once after he had moved offices and changed his phone number. She had no involvement in this, and he refused to put her at risk again. His death would perhaps accomplish that, but he didn’t want to leave her with the grief either. Not the grief, and not as the only receiver of their parents’ focus.

“What if I was willing to work with you?”

The question makes him feel sick, but he’s been staring down the barrel of a gun for five minutes by now. There aren’t many things he wouldn’t be willing to say if it would keep him from being held at gunpoint.

“Doctor, doctor, doctor… You’ve already declined our offer once. Why would I believe that you’ve changed your mind now?”

A movement behind the man catches his attention, and he slowly moves his gaze, hoping that the man won’t notice. What looks like a cop has entered the alley. He doesn’t know if his call succeeded considering the lack of information the emergency responders would be able to get out of it, or if it’s mere luck that this policeman saw suspicious activity in the alley and decided to investigate.

“You wouldn’t,” Emile agrees. “But you should put your gun away before that nice policeman sees it.”


	4. Dragged Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Might take place in the latter half of 1991, might take place in the first half of 1992. There is an implied hate crime.

_Fluidi-Tea_ had opened as usual around noon, although as it was a weekend most of the customers wouldn't come in until the small hours. Remy didn’t mind, no, they rather enjoyed the quiet lull. It would soon be the coffee shop’s one-year anniversary and they were trying to plan a fun event for it. Perhaps they could put on a drag show? Many of the regulars were drag queens and kings, needing a coffee before or after their performances at the local queer bar, and they had known some of them from frequenting the bar themself before becoming a business owner.

They went to the bar a lot less regularly now, with being the only one keeping _Fluidi-Tea_ up and running, but they still stopped by for a while on slow nights. After having met and married Virgil, they sometimes left him in charge but it was a lot more fun to drag him with them to hit the dance floor. For all that Remy still flirted and had weekend flings and one-night stands, they did care for their husband. It was too early to call it love, with them only having known each other for a handful of months, but it was something.

Lost in thoughts about what to do for the anniversary, Remy didn’t notice as the sun went down and the streets outside filled with the sound of rowdy drunks. At most, they would take a break to serve the occasional customer or refill their mug with coffee. Virgil had come by with dinner at some point and then stayed to wipe the tables and wash up after the day’s customers - things that Remy would usually do but appreciated getting help with. It was nice, to not be alone. To have something close to domesticity.

The sound of glass shattering forced them to look up. There was a group of men outside the shop, and one of them had just thrown a brick through one of the windows. Remy felt as if the blood in their veins had turned cold, and dread filled their chest. The men were laughing, and they held lit lighters. There were a group of men outside their shop, being loud and threatening and laughing-

“Remy!” Virgil’s voice barely broke through their frozen state, and it did nothing but double the dread in their chest. Virgil was still there, he could be hurt, they could both be hurt. Remy could only stare at the men, wait for them to do something, to burn _Fluidi-Tea_ to the ground or come in and beat the two of them to death. Did they have more bricks? Any other weapons? Remy didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. They couldn’t think, couldn’t move.

They let Virgil drag them away from the counter, through the kitchen and out the back entrance, as if they were nothing more than a ragdoll. Tears had gathered in their eyes, thankfully hidden by the dark lenses of their sunglasses. Their eyes were glued to the coffee shop until they could no longer see it, at which point they turned away.

Remy and Virgil rushed through the streets, away from the coffee shop where they had first met, and towards somewhere where they would be safe until morning. Maybe they would go home, maybe they would stay at Logan’s. Remy didn’t know. They let Virgil lead them to safety as they tried to not imagine what would be left of _Fluidi-Tea_ come morning.


	5. Stab Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place sometime during spring, 2013. Dee is abused by his romantic partner.

The evening had been going good. He and Missy had been working on their costumes for LeakyCon at vers home, listening to the AVPM and AVPS soundtracks. Dee had been enjoying spending time with his datefriend; they’ve met senior year of high school and gotten together not long after. Missy was clever, especially with sarcasm and compliments. Lately, a lot of those compliments had started feeling like thinly veiled insults but Dee pushed it aside. His cenn, pop, and the third one did it all the time and they loved each other. Maybe their insults weren’t as veiled, or as sharp, but he couldn’t compare his parents and the bitch to his datefriend.

They’ve been talking about going to the movies sometime soon, and Missy had suggested they should go see The Great Gatsby. Dee had already agreed to go see that movie with Roman, and he said so. It should have been fine - Roman was one of his best friends, they had known each other since Dee was three months old. He had been about to ask if Missy would want to see Now You See Me with him once the movie premiered when suddenly the feeling of intense pain was all he knew.

Ve had fucking stabbed him. Ve had taken the pair of scissors they had used to cut fabric and stabbed him in the shoulder. His datefriend Missy had stabbed him and asked him to cancel on Roman. Dee let the information sink in before he stood up, took his phone, and left. He left his jacket, his bag, the costume he had been working on, and the person who was most definitely his ex now. The scissors were still stuck in his shoulder, and he really wanted to take them out but it would be better to keep them in until he got medical help. Dee ignored the pain and the heartbreak and the tears as he scrolled through his contacts for the one number he didn’t think he would ever need.

Patton picked up immediately. He could have called his parents, or uncle Logan, or one of his friends, but no. Dee called his old babysitter, the only person who wouldn’t be ready to commit murder for him. Right now he needed medical help and to process that maybe all those compliments had just been out-right insults for a while, that his datefriend thought it was acceptable to stab him because he had movie plans with one of his best friends. He needed Patton, who had always been kind and offered homemade cookies or hot cocoa every time Dee was over as a child. Not to mention that Patton worked as a nurse. A children’s nurse to be specific, but Dee wasn’t picky.

“Hey Patton, I got stabbed and I don’t want to go to a hospital so I’m coming over. Would love if you didn’t tell anyone until after you’ve fixed my shoulder. I should be there in five minutes.” Dee didn’t let Patton get a word in before he hung up. It was better that way.

Now to walk around the neighbourhood so that he didn’t have to walk past uncle Logan’s house. Would be just great if someone he knew saw him right now, with tears running down his cheeks and a pair of scissors protruding from his shoulder. Missy would regret ever treating him like this.


	6. Unconscious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in early summer, 1997.

Few were the times that Virgil would call their coffee shop, insisting that they need to come home. Remy had left _Fluidi-Tea_ in the care of their one employee and immediately left; worst-case scenarios running through their head as they took the stairs to their apartment two steps at a time. Something could have happened to Dee, or to Virgil, or to the apartment. They should have taken Dee with them to work, or left him with Logan’s twins, or- Remy’s thoughts trail off as they reach the door. It’s slightly ajar.

They take a calming breath and push the door open. Virgil is sitting on the sofa, a frying pan next to him. He gives Remy a quick glance before he returns to warily watching something on the floor. Remy closes the door behind them and walks deeper into the apartment. There’s an unconscious body on the floor, and Dee is happily spreading paint over the person’s face. He and Virgil must have been fingerpainting. Remy lifts Dee up from the floor with an ease that comes from being a parent for three years. They get paint on their clothes, but they don’t care. The person has started to stir, and while Remy has an idea who it might be, they want to be sure before they allow their son close.

“I’ve never been hit with a frying pan before,” the person groans, although their voice is cheery. Remy rolls their eyes as they recognize the tone. Their suspicions get confirmed when the person sits up.

“Did you pick the lock, Hyacinthe?” Remy asks, and move over to Virgil. They sit down next to their husband, Dee on their lap. Virgil puts a hand on their arm, asking for an explanation and giving support with the simple action.

“Remy, my beloved sibling, you hurt me! Of course, I picked the lock, what do you take me for?”

“Sibling?” Virgil mouths, a wrinkle between his eyebrows. Remy gives a small nod of confirmation.

“Oh, I don’t know. Someone without manners?”

“First time I see you in two years, and this is the welcome I get! You break my heart, Remy.” Hyacinthe teased as he finally stood up. He blinked curiously as he took in the image of Remy sitting on the sofa together with the man that had knocked him unconscious, and a child covered in paint. “This is new.”

Remy let out a long-suffering sigh.  
“Virgil, this imbecile is my older brother Hyacinthe. Hyacinthe, this is my husband of five years, and my son Dee.”

“And you didn’t mention this the last time we met?” Hyacinthe exclaims, a hand coming up over his heart as he takes a staggering step backwards. Remy smiles at the familiar drama. They should see their family more often; it could be good for Dee too.

“Last time we met, you showed up in my coffee shop to recite poetry about your partners and challenged me to a fencing duel. After I won, you swore to get your revenge and left.”

“Yes, and you had plenty of time to mention it during our duel.”

“You didn’t ask.” Remy shrugs their shoulders. There really wasn’t more to it than that. Their siblings would come into their life without warning every now and then, and they would only share information that they had been asked for. They wondered what Hyacinthe had to do to find out where they lived this time.

“Can I hit him with the frying pan again?” Virgil asks. “I liked your brother better when he was unconscious.”

“Hit again!” Dee agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remy has three siblings. You can read more about the Dormir family on my tumblr if you're interested.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me @ loveceit on tumblr.


End file.
